


Behind His Eyes

by themoonandotherslikeit



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Car Sex, Dark, Demon!Dean, F/M, Fingering, Language, Murder, Public Sex, Rough Sex, Sex, Smut, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-12
Updated: 2019-04-12
Packaged: 2020-01-11 23:52:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,029
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18434711
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/themoonandotherslikeit/pseuds/themoonandotherslikeit
Summary: When Dean died with the mark of Cain on his arm and disappeared, you didn’t know how to deal with the fact that your boyfriend was gone. Let alone the cryptic note he left: let me go. Yeah fucking right. So when you saw him again, at a bar singing I’m Too Sexy, you didn’t care what state he was in, just as long as he was alive.





	Behind His Eyes

**Author's Note:**

  * For [smolandgrumpy](https://archiveofourown.org/users/smolandgrumpy/gifts).



You lean against the bar rail, waiting for your To-Go order. You pinch the bridge of your nose to help get rid of the headache that always was there, looming like a dark cloud. That’s what happens when you never fucking sleep. 

It’d been almost three months since Dean left. You’d never forget the sight of his empty bed, covered in blood, with a note that read _let me go_. What? Was he fucking new here? Of course you couldn’t let him go. That wasn’t what relationships were. That was saying a lot, too, coming from him. He never let shit go.

You’d always remember the look on his face when he found out you put turkey bacon on his cheeseburger. The shock and betrayal was in a league of its own. It was a regular bitch fit. Now every time you cooked he would eye you. _“You sure this isn’t a lie, Y/N? How can I even trust you??”_

You roll your eyes and smile fondly at the memory. Heaven for bid you try to keep him alive longer. _Real good that did us_. You internally sigh. How’d everything get so messed up?

You knew exactly when everything changed. That mark on his arm. His eternal need to be a fucking martyr. At what cost?

You lock eyes with the bartender and lift a finger. “Shot of whiskey.” Anything to be just a little bit numb.

“Oh great.” Someone in the bar groaned. “Not this guy again!”

Karaoke was starting, from what you could gather. The bartender slid you the shot and you downed it easily, learning a thing or two from your boyfriend.

_“What do you mean you’re bad at shots?” Dean laughed shaking his head, the wrinkles around his eyes tugging at your heart. “Oh baby, we will teach you how to swallow.” He grinned._

_“That sounds dirty.” You said, your cheeks tinted pink._

_“It’s meant to be.” He takes the glass, pressing his beautiful lips to it. He swallowed the liquid effortlessly, in one gulp._

_You shift your weight and your heart picks up. Maybe he could teach you a thing or two._

“I’m too sexy for my love.” The gruff, drunk voice rang through the bar, causing a new set of annoyed groans from the guests baring witness to the singer.

You sit up a little straighter.

“Too sexy for my love.”

 _Holy shit_. You spin around, your heart pounding in your chest. It was the voice you heard in bed at night. The one you tried to conjure. The one you called every night before you fell asleep to listen to that voice mail message again. “Dean.” You say quietly.

Before you know it you’re walking to the stage. Your legs having a mind of their own. “Dean.” You say again, pinching your arm. _Ow_. You blink a few times. _I am awake._ “You’re alive.” You said breathlessly, standing in front of him.

“Shit.” He said lazily, tilting his head to the side. “It’s my girlfriend. Hello, Sweetheart.”

He sat down the microphone and hopped off the small stage and waltzed past you, up to the bar for a shot. The crowd cheered, they seemed real fucking happy that he wasn’t singing anymore.

Your eyes sting as he blew past you. “Dean!” You call for him, walking up behind him in the bar.

“You’re still here?” He asked, downing his shot. “I assumed you’d be calling Sammy, making a plan to get me home.” He looked bored, his green eyes dull. He raised a finger, signaling for another shot.

“No… uh.. I am just surprised to see you.” You take his hand. “Happy to see you.”

Dean turns to you, his lips pursed. You notice that all signs that he was injured before were gone. Before his death. You swallow hard, as his eyes search your face and then your body. “How happy?”

 _Really fucking happy_. You should ask questions. You should hit him. Find out where he’d been. Why he didn’t call. But he was just _there_. You reach out and put your hands on his chest, feeling the warmth of him. You wanted more. You leaned in and pressed your lips to that sweet spot under his ear. “Why don’t I show you?”

He raised an eyebrow. “Sure, sweetheart, I know just the place.”

Dean took his last shot, tossing some money on the bar top. He walked forward, his hand sliding into your back pocket. You can feel the pressure of every finger as he cupped your ass in his hand. Your heart skipped a beat. He walked you to the Impala. You honestly didn’t think you’d ever see it again.

Your head was spinning as he took you in his hands, pressing you against the side of the car. His lips pressed against yours hungrily. His teeth scrape against your bottom lip drawing a little bit of blood. He usually wasn’t so aggressive, but you couldn’t get close enough, so it didn’t bother you. His tongue tasted like the whiskey he had swallowed in front of you, your back was hot against the sun kissed metal.

Your eyes shot open as you felt his calloused fingers snake into your jeans. You hadn’t felt him undo the snap or the zipper but _fuck_ there they were. The roughness of his skin against your soft core was unbelievable. You couldn’t believe you’d gone months without him. Your alone time was nothing compared to the real thing. Even if he was about to fuck you in a parking lot, what does it even matter if you’re together? Nothing else ever mattered.

Dean pressed the weight of his body against you, and you can feel the length of his erection pressing against your leg. You swallow hard, not used to him being so forward in public. Usually he was surprisingly shy, but not this time.

 _Fuck it._ You think, remembering all the times you were yearning for him. All the nights you’ve been alone. You reach down blindly and fumble with his belt, and the buttons of his jeans. Your fingers scrape eagerly against his zipper and he grunts in response, sliding a third finger inside of you. You tremble at his touch, and grip his shoulder tightly with your free hand. He smiled devilishly, liking seeing you react to him. His thumb rubbed circles on your swollen, pulsing clit.

Your fingers snake your way into his boxers, and run your fingers along the head and then down the large vein that ran down the length of him. He gritted his teeth at your touch and gripped you tightly, with his fingers still inside of you, spinning you around so you’re facing the car. Your breasts pressed against the window, and you grunt from the force he instills. Your hands are at your side in an instant. Your heart pounds, as he pins you down. His fingers slide out from inside of you, causing you to gasp, your breath digging up the window on Impala.

“Dean… I..” You whisper before you see his reflection in the glass in front of you.

He takes his three fingers and slides them into his mouth, his eyes seeming to be locked with yours. “Mm, missed that taste.”

Your stomach does a flip at the sight of his fingers sliding into his mouth. He hooks his fingers in the waist of your jeans and yanks them down in one movement. You raise your eyebrows as you feel the sun on your bare ass. You try to turn, but he puts his hand on the back of your head holding you in place.

Your breath hitches in your throat as he kicks your legs apart with his boot and settles between your thighs. His fingers reached between your legs again to find your opening. You paw at the window desperately looking for something to hold on to, as he presses his lips below your ear. “Buckle up, sweetheart. You’re in for a ride.”

You feel the buttons of his flannel as he lowered himself behind you to get the right angle before he thrusts upwards, hard and fast. You gasp out at the feeling of his entire cock inside of you. Your thighs shake a bit as he slowly pulls out only to push back in with force and speed that he hadn’t done with you before.

You press your eyes closed. You knew he wasn’t wearing a condom, because _fuck_ he had never felt like that before. He never would’ve went without one.

“ _I can’t risk it, Y/N. Not exactly Dad material, now am I?”_

But this time he just went for it. You hoped it was because he missed you. You hoped it was because he couldn’t keep his hands off of you, but there was something about your face pressed against the glass of the Impala that made you think that there was more going on. “Dean.” You gasp as he hits your wall. He rolls his hips, making your head spin.

“Say my name.” He said, nipping at your ear, sucking on your neck.

“I want to see you.”

Dean groaned and pulled out of you, and grabbed your hips spinning you around to face him. You were a breath apart. You could smell the whiskey on his lips. “You don’t want to see me, Sweetheart. I can promise you that.”

“I do.” You say desperately. “It’s all I’ve wanted for months.”

He pushed your hair behind your ear, something that would usually be tender, but somehow this felt different. “You don’t want to see me like this.”

“I do.. I don’t care what’s going on with you, Dean. I always want to see you.” You say breathlessly, your legs still shaking from your interaction.

He smirked, leaning forward to press his lips to yours. You suck in your breath and start to melt against him as he pulls away. Your eyes flicker open, and your stomach drops as you stare into his black, soulless eyes. You can see your own shocked expression staring back at you. 

He tilted his head to the side. “Told ya.” He said low, pinning your hands down. “So, sweetheart. I can fuck you. I can make you come right here in this parking lot.” He said with a low growl. “But I can’t be the Dean you’ve been missing. He died there in that bed.”

Your heart races in your chest _. A demon. He is a fucking demon_. What the hell are you supposed to do with that information? Your mind was racing. But then again… did you lie when you said you wanted to see him no matter what? When you told him countless times that you would love him until the end of the earth? When you laid there curled to his side the night he killed Abaddon, stroking the Mark of Cain, and told him that it changed nothing between you. That you could love him, even under the weight of the real possibility that he could turn into a monster.

You didn’t want to be a liar. You knew who Dean Winchester was at his core. Demon or not he was _good_. He had to be.

So you flexed your fingers. “Get in the back seat, Winchester.” You said, your eyes flickering from his black eyes to his mouth.

“What?” He asked, a little confused.

Your eyes moved back up to his, finding his green orbs staring back at you.

“You said you can make me come right here in this parking lot.” You said, low. “So fucking do it.”

He raised an eyebrow, and released your pinned down arms. “Not gonna stab me with a demon knife, are you?”

“Not unless that turns you on.”

Dean smirked and unlocked the back door of the Impala. He turned to you expectantly.

You press your palms to his chest, pushing him backwards into the Impala. The car groaned in response as you climbed on top of him, pulling the door shut behind you. You wiggle out of your jeans and pull of your T-shirt, exposing your black bra. Dean looked up at you hungrily and licked his lips.

He sat up a bit, grabbing at the collar of his shirt to pull it over his head. Your eyes lock on his anti possession tattoo. The irony not slipping past you. You run your fingers along it, like you’d done a hundred times before.

“Not possessed.” He said, smoothly. “It’s all me.”

He grabbed the back of your neck and pulled you down to him, his mouth capturing yours hungrily. He ran his tongue along your bottom lip and reached behind you to unsnap your bra in one fluid motion.

Your breasts bounce out of their place causing you to groan in satisfaction. He discarded the bra and cupped your breast in his rough hands. He ran his tongue along your nipple, causing it to perk up in response.

He sucked on your breast, leaving purple puckers along the smooth skin. You move back from him, to pull his pants down, and he bucks his hips up in response, kicking his boots off. You look down at him, your hands resting on his chest, taking in his beauty. You wanted to have him before you mourned him. Every night that you prayed for him to come home to you, you didn’t exactly specify that you wanted him to be human.

“I see your mind spinning.” He growled. “No thinking, Sweetheart. You were always prettier when your brain was shut off.”

His eyes flickered  black and in a heartbeat he flipped you over, your back pressing against the hot leather as he settled between your legs. He pressed into you causing you to gasp. “That’s better.” He murmured, running his fingers along your thighs. He reached forward, sliding his fingers into your mouth. You suck on them as instructed, watching his eyes the entire time, just waiting for them to go dark again.

He slid his fingers from your mouth and immediately started to stroke your clit as he pushed into you rhythmically. You mean lowly, your thighs twitching. He grabbed your legs in his hands, tossing them over his shoulders as he gets on his knees, crouching. He was almost too tall, almost slamming his head into the roof of the Impala, but he didn’t look like he minded.

You arch your back up, and use all the muscles in your stomach you have to bring yourself up to his mouth. He supports your back with his hand, and wet fingers. A shiver rolls up your spine, as he arched your back further. You let your head roll back, your hair sweeping against the seat. The Impala rocked with the movement of Deans hips as he sped up. He reached his free hand down to rub your clit again.

“Come with me.” He murmured as he pushed into you even deeper and held it.

You complied with a groan, tipping over the edge as his cock pulsed in agreement.

He wiped a bead of sweat off his forehead and flipped you around so his back was on the seat and you laid on top of him. Under the weight of your orgasm it was hard to feel like anything was wrong. Like your boyfriend wasn’t a demon who had been missing for months.

“Where have you been?” You ask him quietly.

“We really gonna do this, Y/N?”

You sit up a little. “Yeah, Dean. I think we should do this.” Your jaw tightens in annoyance. “You disappeared for months.”

“I left a note.”

“Yeah a half assed note!” Your face is heating up from the annoyance and anger that was bubbling in your stomach. “Where have you been that you can’t call me and tell me that you’re okay? That you’re _alive_?”

“When are you gonna get it?” He groaned. “I’m not alive. Now this was fun… nostalgia and all that, but if you don’t want to go for round two then get the fuck out of my car.”

“Seriously?” You gape at him, instinctively pulling his flannel on over your naked, sweaty skin.

His eyes flickered black, and you knew he was trying to scare you, but all it did was piss you off more. You open your mouth to sling a few more choice words when you hear a thumping coming from the trunk. “What the…?” You quickly button up the flannel and fling open the back door, before popping the trunk.

You stand there barefoot on the hot asphalt staring at a man tied up and bleeding in Deans trunk. He was gagged, and it looked like multiple bones were broken. “Dean!” You turn to catch him in his jeans only, holding the first blade. He flipped it with boredom in his eyes.

“Didn’t want to kill on an empty stomach.”

He shrugged. “Sure you understand.”

He lifted the blade and sent it into the mans chest. He ignored the mans tears. His muffled pleas. You are quickly realizing that your boyfriend is gone.

“What the fuck?” You ask, and before you can think it though your palm collides with his cheek. “You just killing people now??”

“Mm I like it a little rough.” He said, dropping the blade into the trunk so he can wrap his arms around you.

“Fuck off, Dean!” You shout, shoving him.

He grinned back, wiping a droplet of blood that splashed up during his kill off of his mouth before licking his fingers. “You’re so fucking hot when you’re mad.” He grinned before pulling you back to him in an urgent kiss, and for just a second you forget about everything else. Just like every other kiss with Dean, the whole rest of the world melts away. You know, then, that no matter what he did you would always climb into that car with him. You belonged to him from that first kiss and you weren’t going to let a bad attitude and some black eyes fuck all that up. Not when he was still there, and not when the sex was that good.


End file.
